


Close Proximity

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [192]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Curses, In Which Stephen Strange is No Help, M/M, Mind Reading, Schadenfreude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 07:14:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16739488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: “It’s a curse,” Strange said, his voice deadpan, his expression far less so. The son of a bitch was enjoying this.“No shit, Sauron,” Tony snapped. “How do I fix it?”





	Close Proximity

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Mind reading. Prompt from this [generator](http://colormayfade.tumblr.com/generator).

“It’s a curse,” Strange said, his voice deadpan, his expression far less so. The son of a bitch was enjoying this.

“No shit, Sauron,” Tony snapped. “How do I fix it?”

Strange sat back and spread his hands, aiming no doubt for beatific but landing solid on gigantic smirking ass. “I have no idea.”

“Why not?! It’s magic, isn’t it?”

“Obviously.”

“So, you’re a magician! Fix it!”

An extravagant sigh, a studied ruffle of that damnable cape. “It’s not that simple. And I suspect you understand that, Stark.”

Tony’s throat swelled with panic. “You can’t--I can’t  _ stay _ like this. I can’t. Oh, god, you don’t know what it’s like.”

“No,” Strange said dryly. “I don’t. And for that I count myself grateful. I’ve always thought of telepathy of the very cruelest of cosmic jokes.” He lifted his eyebrows. “You must’ve done something pretty spectacularly stupid to piss off the universe this badly.”

Tony groaned and sank his head into his hands. Even now, in the sigiled silence of Strange’s rooms, the thoughts of a thousand strangers pressed in on his thoughts, reaching, stretching, clawing like fingers scrabbling at a balloon. The idea of facing that again, of that bombardment breaking through and hammering at his consciousness, made his brain nauseous. And his body, too.

“I hate this,” he said. “I hate this so fucking much.”

“Well, look at it this way: most people wouldn’t have been able to stand it this long. Most people would’ve gone insane in the first 20 minutes, tops. So I suppose you should take your resilience as a sign of strength or something. Never mind the fact that you were smart enough to seek my advice.”

Tony shot him a scowl. “Which has come up as jack shit so far, hasn’t it?”

Strangle raised a haughty eyebrow. “Hardly. Your brain isn’t oozing out of your ears, is it? There's no discernible trace of your amygdala on my floor, is there?”

“Not that I’ve noticed.”

“Then I’d count that, as the kids say, as a win, Stark.”

“I was wrong,” Tony said. “I don’t hate this. I hate you.”

“Of course you do,” Strange said with a laugh. “I don’t need to be a mind reader to know that.”

 

*****

 

So Strange couldn’t fix him, not right away. But he did at least provide a kind of psychic band-aid.

“It’s an adaptation of the spell I’m using to keep you out of my head,” he said, his hands moving lightning quick through the air, plucking out of the shadows long strands of light. “It’ll act as a dampener: you won’t be stuck listening to the entire city, but only to anybody unlucky enough to be in your close proximity.”

Tony crossed his arms. “Define close.”

“Oh, in the same room or so. Maybe the room next door, if somebody’s thinking loudly enough. Ah.” A shape formed between them, a sort of mystic-looking cat’s cradle. “Here we are. Stand still now.”

A flick of his wrists, a twist, and Tony felt a sear of heat, a sizzle of something ice cold, and in the next breath, it was like a fist had opened, as if the pressure in his thoughts had taken a deep breath.

“Oh my god,” he said, the awful throb in his head slipping away, sliding, his knees going hot water weak. “Oh my god, Stephen. Yes.”

Strange’s lips twitched and he looked, if it was possible, even more self-satisfied. “Really, now. At least let me buy you dinner first, Stark."

“Ugh,” Tony said, swaying, feeling his smile erupt in relief. “You know what I mean.”

He was hustled to the door in short order and shoved none too gently onto the stoop. “Two days,” Strange said. “Bide your time, don’t throw any parties, and wait to hear from me. I’ll have an answer by then.”

“By answer you mean cure, right?”

Strange rolled his eyes. “Presuming that you haven’t lied to me, obfuscated, or omitted key details about your dealings, accidental and otherwise with the occult for the past five years, then yes.”

And then the cloak slammed the door in Tony’s face.


End file.
